As Close as Two Coats of Paint

Mavis wasn't sure how they were related. He was a little mop of a boy, spindly with hair that stuck out in spikes and skin a deathly pale as if he hid in closets all day. She assumed he was the youngest of whatever family he belonged to because his worn clothes hung on him like a sack on a scarecrow.

She came from one of those extended families that didn't know when to quit breeding. Every time they got together for the reunions her Grannie insisted on, there were a few more bodies at the picnic tables.

Her own family consisted of a revolving line of brothers and sisters as new babies were born and the older ones started birthing their own. Her siblings would move in or out depending upon what half ass job her old man was working at that month. Her mom, bless her heart, never complained about all the diapering or cooking or washing clothes. Occasionally, she did get their names confused, but that was understandable.

Twice a year, they would get together at Grannie's farm in the western part of the state. The woman would cook all day, each trying to outdo the others with her special potato salad, fried chicken, or pecan pie. The men concentrated on manly things like drinking beer, arguing politics and poking logs on the fire pit.

Mavis typically hung out with Mary Louise and Faye, her city cousins by Aunt Madge and Uncle Preston. They spent most of their time looking through movie magazines, convinced they could absorb the movie star glamor if they applied enough red lipstick.

The boy cousins spent most of their time beating the pulp out of each other and smoking stolen cigarettes, all except for the little mop boy, whom no one included. Mavis had trouble remembering his name, but she was pretty sure it was Bobbie or Robbie or something like that. Frequently, she would notice him hiding behind a tree, looking at her. At first, she thought it was creepy, but later she was secretly flattered since no other boy even gave her a passing glance.

On the last night of the reunion, when everyone had run out of beer, Cousin Sam pulled out his new gun and began shooting into the air. Of course, cousin Ed felt compelled to demonstrate the manliness of his weapon and joined in the shooting. Mavis thought it sounded like rockets on the 4th of July.

But when Ed pointed his gun straight at Sam, she screamed - a wrong move; she decided when Ed pointed the weapon toward her. She figured she might as well kiss her ass goodbye until, expectantly, the little mop of a boy jumped on Ed, making his gun fire into the ground.

Afterwards, she looked at the little boy sitting on Ed's lap and thought, "Damn. That lil sum bitch just saved my life." And she decided right then that she would give Bobbie Robbie a big smooch planted right on his knobby little forehead because, at that point, they were close as paint.

— opelikakat